InkStained Finger
by RavynFayre
Summary: Warning: MM slash. Ron is feeling a bit smudged. Harry has an ingenuous cleaning method. Minor pwp, humor, one swear word.


Title: Ink-Stained Finger

Rating: PG-13 (mild pwp, humor, one swear word)

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Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J. K. Rowling and other parties too numerous to mention. I, clearly, am not one of those numerous parties. No copyright infringement or harm is intended. No money is being made.

Spoilers: None

Summary: Ron is feeling a bit smudged. Harry has an ingenuous cleaning method.

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**Ink-Stained Finger**

It wouldn't come off. He'd been working at it for days. More like hours, really. Honestly, it has only been about ten minutes. He wet his thumb again, rubbing furiously at the black mark on his middle finger. He'd forgotten how badly quills leaked. His always leaked, at any rate.

He'd earlier tried soap, which only succeeded in mildly diluting the ink and making the stain larger. He ran his hands under warm water again, figuring he'd be reduced to waiting for it to dry and scraping off the stain with his fingernail.

"Having a little trouble?" Harry asked, wearing a bemused smile, as he watched Ron from the doorway.

"Yeah," Ron answered, holding up his wet right hand. "Ink-stained finger."

"Mmm," Harry nodded. "I see." He crossed the room, gently taking Ron's hand in his, studying the stain carefully.

"Rotten luck I've got with these quills. Buy the bloody things brand new and in just a couple of d-d-daaayyys . . .," Ron stuttered, his mouth settling into a silent "O" as he watched his finger disappear into Harry's mouth. He didn't know what he'd expected the inside of Harry's mouth to feel like, but he was surprised to find it wet, slippery and comfortably warm.

Ron's brain processed a number of thoughts in the ensuing seconds that might have stretched into minutes or even hours for all he knew. The first thought told Ron that what Harry was doing was gross and he really ought to get his finger back. The second thought took the position that what Harry was doing really felt quite good, and told the first thought to shut up and go away. The third thought stumbled in, worried that someone could walk in on them then would go and tell and what would they do when everybody in the school knew, but it didn't stay around long when it was also told to shut up and go away. The second thought ultimately fell in agreement with the fourth thought, which was actually composed of two thoughts continually weaving in and around each other, namely "fuck that feels good" and "I never knew Harry could do that with his tongue."

Harry first cradled the finger tenderly with his tongue, his eyes fixed on Ron's, his lips turning up at the corners ever so slightly. With one hand, Harry kept Ron's other fingers gently folded out of the way, while his other hand gripped Ron's wrist. The tip of his tongue then prodded at the side of the first joint, the site of the offending stain, finding and massaging the callous that had developed, from years of quill use, just under the mark.

Ron briefly wondered if he should be enjoying the feeling of Harry's own callused hand cradling his. He hadn't realized how slender, almost delicate, Harry's fingers were. He couldn't help but notice that Harry didn't have an ink stain on his finger

Harry worked the finger in and out of his mouth, his saliva making it slide with pleasurable ease. The muscular tip of his tongue worked determinedly at the stain. Harry pulled away only briefly when he needed to swallow.

Ron didn't know at what point his eyes slipped closed. Nor did he know how long they stood in the lavatory, Harry sucking on his finger and Ron feeling strangely privileged. All he did know was that he was enjoying Harry's method for ink stain removal.

He felt a shock of cool when Harry pulled away, still holding Ron's hand, the glistening wet digit extended. "There," Harry said, admiring his work. "All clean." A flash of black across Harry's tongue as he spoke was the only evidence of what he'd just done.

Ron exhaled sharply, unable to make his own tongue work to form actual words in any language. "Unh huh," he grunted.

"Next time your quill leaks, just let me know" Harry smiled and winked, leaving Ron alone with one conclusion.

Leaking quills really were just a minor inconvenience he would most certainly learn to live with.

THE END


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